


fever

by waveydnp



Series: fics for people [5]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 10:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17827154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waveydnp/pseuds/waveydnp
Summary: phil’s been sick and they’re missing each other





	fever

Phil feels like he’s been sleeping for about a hundred years. 

Time has lost all meaning. Even days of the week are like an abstract concept. All he knows is bed and toilet and blankets and medicine. All he knows is the violent shifts between shivering and sweating, the headache that seems to cling no matter how many tablets he takes.

Dan sleeps in another room. He doesn’t want to get sick on top of everything else. He brings Phil water and toast and drugs in the morning. He texts him throughout the day and practically comes running whenever Phil needs something.

But Phil’s love language is touch, and he hasn’t touched Dan in what must be a couple weeks. Dan’s going through his own sickness, though his has nothing to do with a virus and more to do with the crushing existential kind of dread that Phil can only theorize about.

He doesn’t get existential. He just gets ill.

And he’s been so freaking ill. At one point his pillow started talking to him. He’s still not sure if it was a hallucination, a dream, or a brief foray into some kind of alternate dimension where bedding is sentient and well versed in the mating habits of ring tailed lemurs.

The whole ordeal starts to feel like it’s going to last forever. Maybe whoever runs the universe has screwed something up and now he’s doomed to remain floating in the strange, half-conscious haze of his flu for the rest of eternity. 

But eventually he starts to come out of it. It’s a gradual thing, bits of relief that make themselves a little more known with every day that passes. His body aches a little less, his fever breaks. Finally one day he wakes up with the strength to get out of bed without feeling like he’s going to faint.

He’s gotten too used to waking up without Dan next to him. It hardly even feels weird anymore and he really hates that. He’s started to migrate towards the middle of the bed as if Dan’s side is nothing but a long lost memory.

He scootches back over to his side and sits up. His phone says it’s half seven in the morning, but he’s fully awake and feels a little bit like he’s covered in bin juice - kind of smells like it too, so he gets up on legs that feel weak from being underused and makes his way to the bathroom. 

Afterwards he dresses in clean clothes for the first time in ages and tries not to make too much noise as he heads to the kitchen. He assumes Dan will continue to sleep for hours, so when he’s stood in front of the open fridge perusing his breakfast options and feels a hand on his shoulder he jumps and his heart leaps up into his throat.

“Morning,” Dan says like he hasn’t just given Phil a legitimate heart attack. “What’re you doing up?”

“What are you?” Phil counters. 

“Couldn’t sleep and then I heard the shower going. Wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Phil closes the fridge and looks at Dan properly. His heart sinks to realize that maybe Dan’s been feeling a lot more poorly than he thought.

He looks awful. Like he hasn’t slept in days. And maybe hasn’t been eating much either.

“You haven’t been taking care of yourself,” Phil says sadly. 

“I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

Phil gives him a look and Dan gives in immediately. “I’ve been worried about you. And, you know… stuff.”

“I’m fine,” Phil says. “Just sick. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Last time you were sick you ended up in an MRI and I thought you were—”

“But I’m not,” Phil interrupts. “I’m fine.”

“So am I,” Dan says. “Just a little tired.”

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” He feels a little like a cop interrogating a helpless and probably innocent perp, but deep down he’s feeling guilty and maybe lashing out against that feeling a little bit.

“I can’t sleep without you,” Dan says. “I don’t sleep great _with_ you, but it’s basically impossible without you. You know that.”

Phil shakes his head. So his guilt is justified, at least. “You should’ve said something.”

“I’m _fine_.” Dan can’t hide his exasperation anymore. “I wanna know how you are.”

Phil scrubs a hand down over his face in frustration. He’s been here too many times not to feel anxious and worried when Dan looks this run down. It’s been better these last few years, but relapses happen, and if Dan’s been neglecting even the basic forms of self care Phil wouldn’t put it past him to have a proper episode. 

This time of year is always when Dan’s grip on mental health feels the most tenuous, and Phil’s gone ahead and made it worse by falling ill and debilitating himself. Dan’s a grown man and doesn’t need Phil to take care of him, but he does a lot better when Phil’s there. That’s just how it is with them. They make each other better and things feel wrong when they can’t be.

“I’m feeling better,” Phil says. “I think the worst is behind me now. But we’ve got to get you some sleep or you’ll definitely catch whatever it was I had.”

Dan nods. He’s not going to argue, Phil’s sure. Phil’s got his serious voice on.

“If we went to bed together right now could you sleep?” Phil asks.

Dan shrugs. “Maybe. I’ve been up a while, though. I’m hungry.”

“Breakfast and then bed?” 

“Yes please.” Dan smiles. It’s weak but it’s there. “Can you eat? You’re feeling that much better?”

“I think so. Some cereal should be alright, at least. And coffee. God I miss coffee.”

“I’ll make it,” Dan says. He reaches up and rubs at the stubble along Phil’s jaw. “You go sit. Let’s not push anything.”

Phil could argue that he’s fine, but it feels nice to be looked after like that, so he smiles and catches Dan’s hand with a kiss before heading out to the lounge to settle into the sofa and choose something on the telly to keep them company while they eat their cereal. 

He’s always liked cereal, but it’s never tasted like the best thing he’s ever eaten until today. Also coffee. He’d marry it if he could. Polygamy is illegal in England but he reckons the three of them could make it work. Dan doesn’t care about getting married anyway.

“Phil.” Dan’s got a rather horrified look on his face as he watches Phil shovelling milky carbs into his maw. “You don’t have to attack it like that, it’s not going anywhere.”

“S’good,” Phil garbles, a bit of milk dribbling out his mouth and down his chin.

Dan laughs and it’s a beautiful thing, those beautiful sad eyes lighting up at Phil’s stupidity. Phil shuffles over a little closer until the knee of one criss-crossed leg presses against Dan’s thigh. It feels so nice just to be able to share the same space again. 

Dan’s voice softens. “I’m glad you’re eating.”

“I missed eating.” He takes his last bite and puts the bowl on the coffee table. “Also I missed you.”

Dan leans forward and puts his bowl beside Phil’s. “Missed you too. Probably too much considering we were still in the same flat.”

Phil shakes his head. “You can miss someone even if they’re right beside you. It’s not just about physical distance.”

“I know,” Dan says softly. “But I’m glad there’s no physical distance.”

“Me too. C’mere.” Phil shifts so he’s facing Dan and then leans back until he’s lying down with his head resting against the arm of the sofa. He opens his legs and reaches his arms out for Dan, who lies down between them and rests the side of his face against Phil’s chest.

“You feel extra bony,” Dan says, but he melts into Phil like their bodies are absorbing each other.

“So do you,” Phil murmurs, running his fingers through Dan’s hair. “We should get Dominos later.”

“That’s literally the best thing you’ve ever said.”

“But I say so many good things,” Phil says.

“That’s how much I love pizza.” Dan lifts his head and rests his chin gently against Phil’s sternum. 

Phil pushes the hair off Dan’s forehead and takes a beat just to look. He’s paler than he had been the last time Phil had paid proper attention. “That’s how much I like your face.”

Dan scrunches his nose playfully. “That’s how much I like your mum.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” Phil asks.

“No. I dunno. Don’t ask questions.”

Phil chuckles and Dan’s head bounces with the movement of it. “Don’t question Dan’s daftness, got it.”

“That’s right. You have to let me be daft because that’s what happens to my brain when you’re ill.”

“You know I was fine, yeah?” Phil asks gently. “You really didn’t have to worry.”

“You didn’t know that for sure. Nothing is ever sure.”

Phil pulls him up so their faces are closer. “Lots of things are sure.”

“Like what?” Dan asks. He’s already smiling, no doubt waiting for whatever sappy ridiculous thing Phil’s about to say.

“Like you’re cute.”

“You think I’m cute?”

Phil stretches his neck to drop a kiss on the tip of Dan’s nose. “The cutest.”

“Cuter than Chris Evans?”

“Cuter than Chris Evans playing with his dog.”

“Shut up,” Dan says, voice pitching up with his fondness. “No one’s _that_ cute.”

“You are.” He’s being shameless and is completely unbothered. The last however many days have been utterly miserable and being a cheesy cheeseball now is the perfect antidote. It’s the only kind of cheese he can tolerate, the kind where he makes Dan’s rosy patch rosier by telling him how loved he is.

“Now’s the part where you tell me I’m that cute, too,” Phil prompts.

“Well that’s a given.”

“Is it?”

“For me it is,” Dan says. “But I don’t like stroking your ego so much.”

Phil cocks an eyebrow. “You could stroke something else if you want.”

“Don’t push it,” Dan says sternly. “Reckon you’d faint before you even got to finish.”

Phil’s response is immediate. “Worth it.”

“If you were well right now I swear on your mum’s life I’d punch you.”

This time Phil waggles both his eyebrows. “Tongue punch?”

“Phil!”

Phil laughs, harder than he has in ages. He loves winding Dan up like this just to hear him shriek his good-natured disapproval. He laughs so hard he starts to cough.

“D’you think it’s safe for me to kiss you yet?” Dan asks, pushing up even closer to Phil’s face. “That’s usually the best way to shut you up. I don’t want you to have a heart attack laughing at your own jokes.”

Phil grins. “You don’t wanna shut me up, don’t lie. You wanna snog me ‘cause you’ve got a crush and you’re just looking for an excuse. It’s ok, I won’t tell anyone. We can keep the snogging a secr—”

Dan goes ahead and shuts him up with a well placed set of lips. Phil’s still smiling as he kisses back, wrapping his arms around Dan’s back.

“I don’t wanna get sick but I reckon it’s worth it if I do. It feels so weird not to be able to kiss your stupid face whenever I want,” Dan says after he pulls away and rests his head back down on Phil’s chest. He sounds kind of far away, like his grip on wakefulness is starting to slip.

“If you get sick I’ll take care of you, just like you did for me,” Phil says gently, returning a hand to Dan’s hair. He plays with it idly as they both turn their attention to the show they’d put on earlier, scratching gently against Dan’s scalp and smiling at the contented sighs he’s rewarded with.

He’s glad he chose the show he did. It’s nice and quiet which is good, as only a few minutes later Phil looks down to find that Dan is fast asleep. 

It’s always been a bit of a secret guilty pleasure of Phil’s, watching Dan sleep. He doesn’t go out of his way to do it, but when Dan is at peace like this it’s hard for Phil not to appreciate it. All the pain he carries through his waking hours disappears when he’s asleep. He looks young, vulnerable in a way that sparks some kind of protective instinct in Phil’s chest that he only ever feels for Dan. 

He strokes Dan’s curls back off his forehead, smoothing his thumb along the hairline at Dan’s temple. He has the urge to pepper the freckles on Dan’s cheeks with kisses, but he can’t reach them the way they’re positioned. Instead he makes do with caressing Dan’s skin in a way not unlike his own mother used to do for him when he was a child and woke up in the night with dreams that frightened him too much to fall back to sleep. 

Maybe he’s still slightly feverish or something. He just feels so overcome with how important Dan is, how much Phil misses their everyday routines when he can’t have them.

Not that this is an everyday kind of thing by any means. It’s more like a celebratory binge after a particularly long fast. He wants to soak up everything that makes Dan his Dan: his smell, the fluff of his hair, the way his mouth falls open when he sleeps and the weight of him on top of Phil’s chest.

He’s heavy, but that weight is welcomed today. It makes Phil feel safe, grounded, reminded that this is his life and it doesn’t go away just because he sometimes gets too ill to engage in it properly. They’ll always come back to each other.

Phil’s not sleepy himself, but he’s too content not to fall tired eventually, the soft lull of the television in the background and Dan’s steady breathing right on top of his heart. 

He’s lost too much time recently to sleeping, but this feels entirely different. This will be a shared sleep, an act of self care they’re partaking in together, and when he wakes up there’ll be lots of good things. There’ll be video games and coffee. There’ll be laughter and pizza and kisses and all the things that make his life one he’s been missing so dearly.

He manages to dig his phone out of his pocket without waking Dan, and sets an alarm for a few hours from now. 

Dan deserves sleep, but Phil reckons he deserves Dan, and a few hours is all the time he’s willing to wait.


End file.
